


blooming between ribs

by localsharkbait (ninash)



Series: our anatomy [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Engagement, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Happy Ending, Healing, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, maybe idk, stiles becomes friends with the avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 13:08:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17684066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninash/pseuds/localsharkbait
Summary: A look into Stiles and Derek's life after things in Beacon Hills settle down. AKA I read a comment on 'bone deep' and it sparked the idea for this little addition.





	blooming between ribs

Stiles finds that when he’s deep in thought, his hands will reach up and start to play with the metal balls on the chain of his dog tags. He hadn’t even realized he’d done it until Isaac pointed it out, questioning why he even still wears them, considering it’s been almost six years since he’d been enlisted. 

Derek hears the truth, late one night when Stiles can’t sleep. Stiles had moved into the Hale house shortly after they had started dating; it was easier this way. Derek felt calmer and more centered with Stiles near him, and Stiles could actually sleep.

He’d been sitting outside on the circular futon with the back propped up, his fingers tangled in the chain and the two tags chiming together. That’s where Derek found him well into the middle of the night. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Derek asks with sleep gruft voice. He stands next to the futon looking down at Stiles, fingers curled into the cushion. 

“Just one of those nights.” Stiles hums and pats the cushion next to him. 

God he loves Derek so much. Sometimes Stiles will fall into moods where he absolutely does not want to be touched; Derek is always careful around him when he knows he’s not all there nor alright. Stiles drops his head against Derek’s shoulder and tugs at the chain of his tags. 

“You know Isaac didn’t mean anything when he brought up your tags right?” Derek breaks the silence. His words carried away on the summer breeze. 

Stiles sits up and tucks his legs against his chest, one arm slung over his knees and the other pulling his tags out from under his tee shirt. He rubs his thumb over the hammered letters and numbers, lips pressed thin and eyes thoughtful. 

“It just feels weird without them, you know?” Stiles glances up at Derek before looking back at the tags. 

“They were our identity over there. We were taught to always keep them on and if a body was too gone they’d use the tags to ID. It’s morbid I know, but sometimes they were the only thing that kept me connected to my life here.” Stiles brows furrow. He feels like he isn’t explaining it very well, but they’re the only words that come to mind. 

“Sometimes I feel like my triskelion is the only thing still connecting me to my family.” Derek offers his own weakness, hand resting on his own shoulder and fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. 

They don’t offer each other any more comfort than just who they are. They lean against one another on the futon, Derek shifts to prop his side up, and they just exist. The night sky is bright with constellations and a half moon. Cora finds them the next morning, curled around one another, so entangled you can’t tell where one begins and one ends. 

Isaac apologizes that night when Stiles and Lydia are cleaning up from dinner. It’s a quiet ‘i’m sorry’ and a forehead pressed to his shoulder. Stiles laughs and nods his head, curling his hand around the back of Isaac’s neck and giving it a squeeze. The beta gives him a tired smile and slinks off back into the living room where the rest of the pack is. Lydia watches the whole encounter with a void face and her eyes follow Isaac out. 

“So how are things with Lauren?” Stiles pulls her back as his hands dive back into the sink of dirty dishes. 

“They’re good. She may never be able to use her scream the way I can since she’s not full blooded, but her dream walking is a lot better than mine.” Lydia pulls a towel out of the draw and starts drying the plates. 

“She used to dream walk a lot when we were there. She saved a lot of lives over there.” Stiles trails off. 

Lydia hums as they fall into a comfortable silence, the sound of dishes clinking together as they clean. They’re almost done cleaning up when Stiles reaches across to hand Lydia a glass cup without looking. Thinking she has it, he lets go and the cup slips from her loose grasp and falls straight to the floor. The glass shatters on contact, and slivers of glass skate across the floor. Stiles body tenses and his hands curl around his elbows. His eyes are wide and unseeing, Lydia calls his name and when his eyes flicker around the room, seeing things that aren’t there, she tiptoes around the glass and goes to Derek. 

“Is everything okay?” Derek asks from where he’s standing by the couch. 

“No, I think he’s having another episode.” Lydia shakes her head with a small frown. 

Derek nods and goes to the kitchen. Stiles back is towards him, and the other is now kneeling on the floor. Flecks of blood are shining on the wood floors where glass shards are cutting into his bare knees. Derek’s shoulders tense, he’s gonna have to dig the fragments out later, because Stiles’ extremis is healing around the glass. There have only been a couple other times where Stiles had gotten sucked into a flashback, and they’ve found Derek is the best to work him back. Derek sweeps the glass out of the way and into a small pile away from the two and kneels down in front of Stiles.

“Stiles, I’m right here. I’m right in front of you. You’re in Beacon Hills, your home. You’re not over there, you are home and you are safe.” Derek offers the words in the softest voice he can. Stiles takes a deeper breath, and Derek knows he can hear him. 

“You’re okay, just work your way back to me.” Derek’s fingers rest on the top of Stiles right knee, and he kneads the pads of his fingers into the younger’s skin. 

Stiles chokes on his next breath. His body shuddering through flinches before his muscles unclench and he falls forward. Derek catches him around his shoulders and holds him. Stiles breathes heavily against Derek’s knees and shudders run through him occasionally. Derek curls one arm around his shoulders as the other rubs at his back. Stiles lets out a small hiccup before he lunges up and locks his arms around Derek’s neck. 

“Shh, it’s okay, your okay.” Derek murmurs into his ear and rubs his hands over as much of Stiles as he can. Stiles shivers against Derek and hiccups into his neck. 

“Fuck, I hate this.” Stiles hisses through clenched teeth and sniffles. 

“They’re getting better. Not as frequent or as bad.” Derek offers the reassurance with a kiss to the other man's temple and more whispered praises. 

“If you say so.” Stiles chokes on a chuckle and shakes his head. 

Derek helps him off the floor and upstairs to their room. He gets Stiles into the bathroom and digs the shards of glass out from his knees. The younger just grits his teeth and watches. Stiles was always so disconnected from the world after an episode, and Derek hated that he couldn’t do anything for his boyfriend. So he does what he can. Gets Stiles cleaned up and into sleep clothes, tucking him into bed with a glass of water on the nightstand, and climbing in next to him. He knows the pack will see themselves out, probably already are considering the events that had just happened. 

Derek is turned on his side facing his other. Stiles is laid on his back staring at the ceiling. Derek just lays and watches, Stiles eventually comes back to himself, drinking some of the water that Derek had sat out for him. He curls on his side facing Derek with a small smile on his face. 

“What would I do without you?” Stiles whispers as he cups Derek’s face with one hand, the other staying tucked under his head. Derek turns his head into Stiles' hand and presses his lips to the calloused skin. 

“I shudder to wonder.” Derek smirks into the others hand, who makes an affronted noise and retracts his hand. Stiles shakes his head but scootches over until his body is pressed into Dereks. 

“Thank you.” Stiles presses his words into the hollow of Derek’s neck, slurred from the exhaustion his episode had brought on.

“You never have to thank me.” Derek’s answering words are whispered into Stiles temple. He curls his arms around the smaller and tucks his chin over Stiles' head, keeping him safe and protected from the world, like Derek wishes he could do with the scarred man's mind. 

August rolls around, and Stiles almost forgets that he had agreed to go to New York. Derek reminds him a couple days before he’s set to leave and the days that follow consist of Stiles scrambling around the house, hastily packing a bag and triple checking he has everything. 

“Stiles, you have everything, and even if you are forgetting something I’m sure Tony can have the jet turn around.” Derek laughs as he holds Stiles’ by his shoulders. 

“Right, right.” Stiles breaths and nods his head, shoulders dropping and body relaxing. 

“Love you.” Stiles says in a soft voice and presses a dry kiss to Derek's lips.

It’s not the first time they’ve said the big words to each other, but it still came to a small shock to each of them when the other would say it. Still not used to hearing the words from one another. Derek offers his own and kisses the corner of Stiles' mouth. Derek drives him to the small airport a town over where Stark's jet is waiting for Stiles. 

“I’m just a phone call or a flight away if you need anything.” Derek offers with a small frown as he stands across Stiles at the foot of the planes rolled out staircase. 

“Okay mom.” Stiles chuckles and drops his bag.

He throws his arms around Derek’s neck and pulls the other in for a kiss. Stiles breath stutters when he pulls back a hair, just to dive back in. Derek inhales as his hands fall to Stiles’ shoulder blades and presses him close, brows furrowing. Derek’s teeth scrape Stiles bottom lip, Stiles uses that to glide his tongue against the roof of Derek’s mouth. The other lets out a breathy sigh, tilting his head to get a better angle. Stiles' arms are still slung over Derek's shoulders and he slides his fingers into the hair at the base of Derek's neck, scratching his nails over the short hairs. Derek’s fingers dig into the others back as a reaction, and Stiles smirks into the kiss, knowing the reaction he had elicited. The kiss dies down to gentle pecks before they’re resting their foreheads together and just breathing each other in. Derek goes to lean away, Stiles grip in his hair tightens.

“Wait, don’t pull away...not yet.” Stiles words are breathless and his eyes fall shut. 

Derek’s eyes trace his kiss-swollen lips; red and spit slick. He reaches up and swipes his thumb across Stiles' bottom lip, tracing it slowing. It’s an intimate moment that should be shared behind closed doors, but Derek doesn’t regret it one moment. 

“Mr. Stilinski, we need to get going.” The pilot interrupts their moment from where he’s leaning out of the door of the plane. 

“Mhmm.” Stiles hums and dismisses the man, eyes still closed and leaning against his boyfriend. He takes another moment of just them before leaning away. 

“I think I might miss your kisses the most. They’re addicting.” Stiles laughs, leaning down to grab his bag and heft it over his shoulder. 

“Is that all you’re gonna miss?” Derek raises his brows in the famous Hale stare that gets another laugh out of his boyfriend. 

“I’ll call you when I land.” Stiles grabs the front of Derek’s shirt and reals him in for one more kiss. 

This one is sloppy and too much tongue, that makes Derek laugh and wipe his mouth after its over. Stiles licks his lips with a wild look in his eyes, as he walks backwards towards the plane. He winks at Derek before turning around and heading into the plane. Derek stands on the side of the runway and waves when the plane takes off, smiling when Stiles presses his face against the window and waves back. 

Like promised, Stiles calls him once they touched down in New York. Their call lasts all the way to the Avengers compound, where Stiles promptly falls into fanboy mode at the site. He hangs up with Derek after more I love you’s are exchanged, and he’s escorted into the compound by a woman in a pencil skirt and blazer. She takes him to a room which will apparently be his for the week he’s at the compound, and that if he needs anything to ask FRIDAY. 

“FRIDAY, where’s Tony?” Stiles bounces on the edge of the bed testing it. 

“Boss is in the lab, would you like me to direct you?” The AI answers him and Stiles nods his head. 

Blue lights lead the way along the floor of the halls. It takes him through two different doors and passes a large windowed training room, where he’s pretty sure he just saw Black Widow and Hawkeye sparring. The doors in the lab slide open when he steps up in front of them and he can see Tony to the side. Someone standing next to him, deep in conversation. 

“You drag me out to your fancy compound and then don’t even bother to show me around yourself. That hurts, really it does, right here.” Stiles points at his heart and frowns at the other man. 

“Oh get over yourself, kid.” Tony snorts and walks over to Stiles. Tony slings his arm over his shoulders and leads him over to a shorter man with glasses. Something about him looks familiar, and Stiles racks his brain for a name to a face. 

“Brucey I would like you to meet Stiles, Stiles this is Bruce Banner.” Tony does a flourish at the end of the introducing and Stiles jaw drops. 

“Oh my god, you're-” Stiles starts, mouth curving up in a large smile filled with teeth. 

“The Hulk, I know.” Banner cuts in with a pained smile that looks more like a grimace. 

“You’re Bruce Banner! Oh my god if I was like five years younger I would be crying, jesus!” Stiles gushes and stares at the scientist. 

Bruce’s eyes go wide and a real smile spreads across his face. His eyes flick over to Tony who is silently laughing behind his hand. Bruce chides Tony for his reaction before looking back at Stiles with an incredulous look. 

“That’s so weird.” Bruce murmurs and rests his chin on his fist. 

“What is?” Stiles asks looking from Bruce to Tony. 

“Kid had the same exact reaction you did, and actually cried.” Tony snorts but pulls a serious face to try and calm himself. 

“What kid?” Stiles asks with a head tilt. 

Just then the glass doors to the lab slide open, and a shorter brunette comes racing in. 

“Mr. Stark! Mr. Banner! Look I aced my physics test!” His voice is pitched higher which leads Stiles to guess the other is still a kid. 

He skids to a halt in front of the three, test in hand and stares at them with an open mouth. 

“Oh man, I’m sorry I didn’t realize someone else was in here. Sorry dude, didn’t mean to interrupt.” The kid babbles, tucking the test behind his back like Stiles hadn't just heard him. 

“Kid?” Stiles asks pointing at said brunette and looking at Tony, who nods.

“Hey, I’m sixteen.” The kid draws out on a whine with a pouty face.

“Let’s see it Peter.” Bruce laughs and waves the kid over to his work table. The two get lost in a world of physics and Stiles turns to Tony, who has a soft smile on his face, looking at the boy.

“So why did you call me out here?” Stiles questions, crossing his arms over his chest and crossing his ankles.

“Right, right.” Tony mutters and heads to his own table right next to them. 

The man swipes his hand and a holographic screen pops up, smaller square screens line the sides and he swipes through them till he makes a triumphant noise and pinches the corners to enlarge the screen. There’s a long formula crossing most of the page and a couple of graphs at the bottom. 

“Think I finally cracked it.” Tony smirks and tucks his hands into his armpits, shifting his weight between legs. 

Stiles takes a closer look at the screen. It’s got the formula for extremis broken down, bits and pieces throughout the longer formula. When Stiles is done following the equation he realizes it’s basically an antidote. 

“Does it work?” Stiles spins on his heel. 

“Don’t know.” Tony flips the screwdriver in his hand a couple times, the two staring each other down. 

“I’ll give you blood or whatever it is you want, but I’m not letting you test this on me. I’m fine with having the extremis, I almost like having it.” Stiles presses his palms flat to his chest, voice quiet as to not alert the others. 

“I told you he wasn’t going to give it up.” Pepper tsk’s as she walks into the lab, heels clicking against the floor, and confidence filling the room. 

Tony groans with a ‘well I had to try’ while Pepper walks over to Stiles and gives him a warm hug and a kiss to his cheek. Her hug lingers longer than a general greeting one another, and Stiles relishes in the motherly way she folds her arms around him. 

“I told him to test it on me, but he’s so worried.” Pepper shakes her head with a small smile. Stiles laughs. 

“What if it doesn’t work though?” Tony’s brow creases together, eyes dropping to the floor in insecurity. 

“Tony, you spent years working on this, I trust you.” Pepper wraps her arms around her fiance and rubs a thumb at the base of his neck. 

Once they’ve cleared the air that Stiles will be keeping his mix of orange gatorade inside him, thank you very much, the rest of the week passes by as a vacation. He gets to meet the rest of the avengers, save for Cap and Winter Soldier who are both in Wakanda getting Bucky's arm worked on. He even gets his own short-lived sparring session with Black Widow. He had landed a solid punch to her face and then she promptly laid him out on his ass. He’d never been happier. 

He does have one panic attack while he’s there. Woken from sleep by FRIDAY’s electronic voice that his heart rate was becoming too high. He calls Derek, not even caring about different time zones and other bullshit. Derek talks him down from his hysterical sobbing and whispers words of I love you into the phone until Stiles falls asleep. 

When he gets back to BH, Derek sequesters him away for two days straight. It’s mostly Derek creating a den for them in all his caveman werewolf ways. They do have sex, of course, slow, drawn-out leaves you breathless, seeing white sex. But they mostly just lounge around in bed, with Derek keeping food and water on the nightstands for them. It’s cute and Stiles loves it, even though he complains about needing a shower. 

The next week that follows brings them to Lydia's birthday, which is always sure to be a bigger event than any national holiday. She invites half the town and then some; other packs and those supernaturally inclined that they’ve come to meet over the years. She picks out Stiles outfit for him, and really it’s just tight pants and an even tighter shirt, but Derek thoroughly enjoys it and sticks to stiles side like a moth to a flame for most of the night. Eventually, he gets pulled away by Lydia who wants to dance and Stiles laughs and waves him away. Stiles wanders around the party making small talk with people. Eventually, two younger betas from Satomi's pack gather everyone outside and yell a happy birthday to Lydia who is closer to the front. 

“Oh god, Stiles get out of here!” She whips around to look at the man and yells, waving her arms wildly. 

Stiles brows crease together before he understands her panic. A sharp whistle silences the crowd as white lights shoot up into the sky and explode in colors and thundering sounds. The crowds oo’s and aah’s at the site but Lydia and Derek are pushing through the crowd to get to Stiles, who can only see bullets and IEDs going off. His body freezes up and he stops breathing. His eyes skyward where the first firework had exploded. He’s back in Afghanistan and throwing himself into the dirt to save his unit, but this time he can feel the bomb ripping him apart and putting him back together. The shrapnel burrows into his back and the spaces between his ribs, greedily taking his leg for their own. 

Derek doesn’t give Stiles the choice of wanting to be touched or not. He grabs his boy around the waist and hauls him out of the crowd and back into the Hale house, down into the basement with its soundproof walls. Derek gasps when stiles skin starts to burn his arms, the other's veins streaking molten honey as his extremis rears its head. Derek gets the door shut and them down the stairs, laying Stiles down on the mattress they keep down there. Derek can see the liquid gold pooling in his left leg and his back. Trying to heal injuries that are no longer there. 

“Stiles come on, come back to me.” Derek begs, hands framing his boyfriends face with urgency. 

Stiles body seizes and he’s twisting out of Derek’s grasp, flipping the wolf over and pinning him under him, hands wrapping around his throat in a punishing hold. Derek chokes and his hands instinctively go up to grab at Stiles' wrist. Derek looks up at Stiles' face, twisted in misery and pain and fear. His lips are peeled back in a silent snarl, jaw clenched and eyes glowing gold. Stiles enhanced hands burn his throat as he squeezes tighter and Derek chokes. Derek tries to relax his body, loosening his hold on Stiles' wrists and gently running his fingers up the youngers arms. It takes a minute but like a light switch Stiles snaps out of it and he rips his hands away. He scrambles back to the edge of the mattress and curls into himself. Derek sits up and coughs, rubbing at his neck as the skin heals. 

“ _God, Derek._ ” Stiles voice is hoarse and wracked with self-loathing.

“Stiles-” Derek reaches out, but the latter flinches back and looks up at Derek with wide frightened eyes. 

“I…” Stiles trails off, choking on his words and staring down at his shaking hands. 

“Baby.” Derek coo’s and inches closer to Stiles as slow as he can. 

Once he’s within reach he slowly drops his hand onto Stiles' knee. Starting with just the slight contact, letting Stiles get accustomed to it. After a couple minutes Stiles burrows his head into Derek's stomach and cries into his hands. His back heaves with the hiccuping sobs, and Derek can feel the snot and tears soak through his jeans. But he just holds Stiles through it, until he has cried himself into exhaustion.

Things are a little rough after that. Stiles doesn’t leave their room for a week, and Derek practically has to spoon feed him to keep him eating. It ends up not even being Derek or one of the pack that snaps Stiles out of his depressive episode, but Lauren. She barges into their room the morning going onto the second week. Derek is sitting on Stiles side of the bed, running his fingers through the youngers hair when she kicks the door open, literally. 

“Get up you lazy bag of bones.” She’s not yelling but not talking softly either. 

She walks over to where Stiles is still laying in bed, Derek stands and steps back to allow her to do her thing. She pulls the blanket off and pulls Stiles into a fireman carry. Derek follows them out of their room and down the stairs to the backyard where she unceremoniously lays him down into the grass. She stands over him, crossed arm and frowning down at him. Derek's eyes study her for a moment before drifting down to Stiles. Who takes a deep breath in and digs his fingers into the earth. Just like that, the episode is broken and Stiles takes a long shower and eats a large breakfast that Cora cooks for him. 

“How did you know that would work?” Derek asks from where he’s standing next to Lauren in the archway of the kitchen both watching Stiles scarf down eggs and pancakes. 

“Something similar happened when we were in Afghanistan. He just wasn’t himself, just being told what to do and where to go. Then one night after everyone turned in, Raphael just picked him up and took him outside to a grassy section of where the camp was and just sat with him. Just snapped Stiles out of whatever had happened to him. When Lydia told me he was like this, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try it.” Lauren shrugs a shoulder and pushes off the frame, walking into the kitchen. 

She presses a kiss to the top of Lydia's head as she walks by to grab her own plate of food before the enhanced man ate everything. Stiles pauses in shoveling food into his mouth, a forkful of yolk dripping pancake halfway to his mouth and stares at Lydia, who is seated across him. He shoves the forkful into his mouth and starts to chew.

“When did that happen?” He uses the fork to gesture between Lydia and Lauren, who glances over her shoulder with a smirk. 

“While you were in New York.” Lydia muses with a press of her lips. 

“And in my maid of honor speech, I’ll make sure to mention I’m the reason you two met.” Stiles smirks and tilts his chin up. 

“That’s presumptuous of you.” Lauren snorts, taking the seat next to Lydia and dragging her fingers over the other banshee’s hand. 

Which reminded Derek; a little velvet box sat heavy in his pocket, one he had gotten right before Stiles had left for New York. Derek fingers at the box in his jean pocket, making sure it’s still there before he calls out to the aforementioned. 

“Can we talk for a second?” Derek squints and nods his head to the back door. 

Stiles follows him outside, Derek keeps his back to his significant other as he tries to find the right words to say. He turns so that he’s facing Stiles. Derek smiles as he looks at his boyfriend, hair a static halo on his head, eyes soft honey from the sunlight, yellow yolk drying on the tip of his nose and a goofy smile to match. Derek realizes he doesn’t need the perfect words to say, because this is already what he wants, forever. 

Derek walks over to Stiles and takes his hands in his, rubbing his thumb over the thinner knuckles and smiling down at him. Stiles giggles when Derek’s bunny teeth peek out and his ears dye pink. Stiles pushes up on the balls of his feet and presses a sweet, lingering kiss to the tip of Derek’s nose. The recipient, closing his eyes and take a deep breath in. 

“Marry me?” Derek asks after a beat. Stiles’s hand squeezes his and he giggles. 

“Of course.” Stiles hums and slings his arms around the broaders shoulder like they’re in a middle school dance maintaining the distance between them. 

Derek pulls the ring box out of his pocket and flips it open, Stiles pulling his hand back and dangling it in front of Derek, who pulls the simple silver band out of the box and slips it on his finger. Stiles takes in the ring before curling his arm against his chest and pressing kisses all over Derek’s face, laughing. 

Derek wraps his arms around his fiance's waist and spins him, letting out peels of his own joyous laughter. _His fiance,_ because he can say that now because they’re _engaged_. 

“Did he say yes?” Lauren calls from the door. 

Derek sets Stiles back on his feet, keeping his arms around his waist, and they both look over at Lauren. Her and Lydia are standing in the open door, and Cora is standing on a kitchen chair behind them with a smirk on her face. 

Stiles throws his hand up and screams, ‘I said yes’!

Lauren laughs and Lydia crosses her arms over her chest with a satisfied smile. 

“Oh my god, I gotta call Scott. He owes me fifty bucks, he bet he’d propose to Kira before I would get engaged.” Stiles cackles as he sprints into the house, almost slipping on the hardwood as he goes. 

Derek watches after him. A smile permanently curling his lips. He glances up at the blue sky, soft clouds rolling by lazily. 

“You guys would have really liked him.” He whispers thinking of his family before heading back inside.


End file.
